Vegas is a Silly Place

I should hate Las Vegas, I don't like gambling or strip clubs and it's a struggle to find great craft beer. Luckily we make it there, so I still have as much fun visiting as I did 30 years ago at 13, spending all my mom's money playing video games at the Circus Circus.


At 43, I have come to terms with the reality that I will never be a rock star or astronaut. Still, a trip to Vegas affords the chance "...to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no man has gone before..." or at least pretend you did.


Which was why "The Hangover" was such a success, because even if you don't wake up to a tiger in your bathroom it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibilities when you're there. And the moral of the tale? Never bring a camera, and smash them as soon as you see a flash.

Actually, I never do anything too crazy in Vegas, it's enough for me to stay up all night engaged in enhanced enlightened conversation, and watching the ridiculous parade proceed.

I have made the Sin City sojourn over a dozen times, but unlike the gambling moths looking to strike it rich, but I prefer to hang out with the Riches. Rich Lovelady is our "Hoss" of a brewer at GBLV and probably the most genuine gentleman I know. And Rich Johnson, who used to have my job as Director of Brewing, and is my evil doppelganger who operates Sin City Brewing and their string of bars and retail outlets.

Along with DV the GM of LV they are two of my favorite to have a beer with. Lovelady is like the angel on my shoulder, a hard working honest and respectable family man who leads his life as I aspire to: coaching his kids little league and reading more books in a week than I do in a year. While Johnson is also a good family supplant the wings for a pitchfork, our evenings together usually don't end until shortly before sunrise when we solve all the worlds problems and my eyes lose there ability to focus. Funny how much more clear things are then.

I look up to RJ, after all he is 6 foot 4. I love it when brewers rail on him about no longer being in the exclusive club of active brewers (as we produce his beer) but he instead makes his living selling Sin City Brewing thong panties with the catch line "I Have Sinned." He smiles that Chesire Cat grin as they realize there is something cooler than brewing, and Rich has found it.